


Harsh Reminder

by OrangeOctopi7



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Pines Family Fluff, Post-Weirdmageddon, Resolving some things that didn't get addressed in Canon, Someone get Ford to a hospital!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 23:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15828870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeOctopi7/pseuds/OrangeOctopi7
Summary: In the immediate aftermath of Bill's defeat, everyone is eager to help Stan recover his memories, especially Ford. But first he may need to get his own health in order. Luckily Mabel and Dipper are there to lend a hand.





	Harsh Reminder

**Author's Note:**

> Of all the fics I've written in recent years, this is probably one of my favorites.

It was quite remarkable, really, how well Mabel’s scrapbook was working. Ford didn’t have words for how relieved he was. He wasn’t quite sure he’d have been able to live with himself otherwise, after what he did to his brother. But as it was, Stan seemed to be making quite the recovery. By the end of the scrapbook he could recognize the kids and Soos on sight. 

 

“Ok, so… Soos, Mabel, and Dipper.” he recited, pointing to each in turn. “And that skinny redhead girl who’s in half of these, that’s Winny, right?”

 

“Wendy.” Dipper corrected.

 

“Right, yeah, Wendy…” Stan turned to Ford. “So what’s your deal? There are only, what, two pictures of you in the whole thing.”

 

“I’m your twin brother.” Ford explained patiently.

 

“Well, that _ would _ explain the handsomeness…” Stan said pensively. “...Wait a second, I remember you!”

 

Ford grinned hopefully.

 

“You’re a huge jerk!”

 

The grin flipped to a grimace. “Ah… well, I suppose that’s fair…”

 

"You were gonna kick me outta the house!"

 

The kids shot Ford a pair of scandalized glares.

 

"That's not exactly what I said. Or meant." The old scientist defended. "I know most of your most recent memories of me aren't happy ones.... Well, I  _ say  _ recent, but really it's been the last 40 years. But it wasn't always like that!"

 

Stan looked as skeptical as could be, and Ford really couldn't blame him. Still, it was tragic. Just when they'd begun working together again, just when they'd been in a good position to start mending their relationship, Stan gave up his mind. It seemed to fit in with the long line of tragedies in both their lives.

 

Ford wracked his brain for some way to help jog his brother's memory. They hadn't kept a scrapbook like Mabel had, but he did remember seeing a few Glass Shard Beach yearbooks on a shelf in the portal lab. Who knew if it was even still there after everything that'd happened, but it was worth a look.

 

"I have an idea. Wait here, I'm going to go look for something."

 

But as soon as he stood up straight and took his weight off the chair, Ford could tell something was wrong. The exhaustion only adrenaline had been keeping at bay finally caught up with him, and his limbs quaked. He'd definitely need to lie down soon. But that could wait until after he’d found those yearbooks.

 

"Grunkle Ford, are you o--" Mabel began to ask, when he collapsed.

 

Ok, maybe he could lie down now.

 

“Sixer!” Stan shot out of his chair, sending his niblings tumbling to the ground in the process. He was at his brother’s side in an instant, checking his breathing.

 

“‘Mfine…” Ford groaned unconvincingly. Truthfully, the thrill of his brother finally recognizing him was probably all that was keeping him from blacking out.

 

“Oh sure, I guess you just suddenly decided to take a nap on the floor.” Stan rolled his eyes. “We’re takin’ you to the hospital. Soos, help me lift him.”

 

Soos’s hand grazed against the scientist’s wrist as he helped the old man up. Ford clenched his teeth, not quite muffling a yelp of pain. He was definitely awake  _ now _ .

 

“Sorry dude.” 

 

If he had to go to the hospital, fine, so be it, but Ford still had work to do, and if  _ he _ couldn’t do it, there was one person he knew who could. “D-Dipper…” He choked out.

 

“U-uncle Ford, what is it?” The boy stammered. The poor boy was so stressed out by everything that had been happening, he didn’t need this on top of everything else.

 

“In the portal lab… if you could find yearbooks… should help Stan’s memories…”

 

“Hey,  _ shh _ , take it easy there.” The old con man hushed him. “You can worry about me when  _ you’re _ not half-way to unconscious.”

 

“I’ll take care of it Great Uncle Ford, I promise!” Dipper assured him as he was carried out to the car. Knowing that the mission was in capable hands, and that he would be safe with his brother, Ford finally let the black blanket of unconsciousness wash over him.

* * *

  
  


The drive through town hadn’t brought back any more memories like Soos had hoped it would, but what had, surprisingly, was talking to the people at the hospital. Apparently a lot of people were really banged up from some “Weirdmageddon” thing, so most of the town was there. When one of the doctors asked Stan what had happened, all he could do was shrug. Soos had to explain that the old Mr. Mystery couldn’t remember much at the moment. It being a very crowded reception room, and the handyman being a very loud person,  _ everyone _ heard about it. So as soon as they got Ford on a stretcher and wheeled back into an examination room, the whole populace converged on the old con man, eager to help remind him of the town he’d called home for the past 30 years.

 

Strangely enough, it wasn’t the actual talking that did it. It was the little annoying quirks of each citizen of Gravity Falls that made him recall all the times he’d groaned and rolled his eyes at these people. He didn’t recall a thing about Lazy Susan until she awkwardly “winked” at him, and suddenly all he could think about was that first tour at the Murder Hut and that painfully awkward date. 

 

He knew nothing about the cops until they were so busy making goo-goo-eyes at each other that they completely missed a gnome making off with some medical supplies, and then he remembered the two idiots couldn’t enforce law out of a paper bag. In fact, he himself had stolen from right under their noses, in broad daylight, on several occasions.

 

Mayor Tyler had talked his ear off for nearly thirty minutes and Stan didn’t get an inkling of an idea of who the guy was (besides the Mayor, and he’d mostly gotten that from the sash) until the cute biker became indecisive about what color pen he should use to sign a new act. Then he recalled having to lock the weirdo in the giftshop when he couldn’t decide between pumas and panthers. And  _ this guy _ had beaten him in the election over a stupid technicality!

 

The only person Stan recognized right away was Toby Determined, and he was pretty sure that face was permanently scarred into his brain regardless of how many times his memory was erased. 

 

“...Green pen, blue pen, green pen, blue pen…” Tyler  continued to vacillate when the doctor who had taken Ford back for examination reappeared from behind the double doors. Stan leaped at the opportunity to get out of the overwhelming crowd.

 

“Hey, look, uh, I appreciate that everyone’s tryin’ to help me out here, but I gotta check on my brother.” Stan declared as he ducked out with the medic.

 

“Huh. I didn’t know he had a brother.” Susan stated in surprise.

 

“Oh, dudes, it’s a long story.” Soos chuckled. “Like, when I told Wendy we were up until 3am. But I  _ think _ I’ve got it refined down to half-an-hour with no commercials….”

  
  


“How is he?” Stan asked as he walked down the hall with the doctor.

 

“He’s stable now. We think he’ll make a full recovery fairly quickly. He’s obviously really resilient, to have survived all he has.”

 

“What!?” Stan paled, “Whad’ya mean?”

 

“Well, in addition to the more recent injuries, he’s got a _ lot _ of old scars and healed-over broken bones. Not to mention the metal plate in his head.”

 

“Yeesh…” the old man murmured. He was at a loss for words. What on earth was he not remembering about his brother? “And that’s why he just collapsed?”

 

“No, those old injuries have all healed over well enough. What we’re looking at now is lacerations, burns, and other various internal injuries. From what we can tell he was manacled by the wrists, ankles, and neck, beaten, and electrocuted.” Stan looked at the doctor with slack-jawed horror. “But like I said, he’s clearly a resilient guy, now that we’ve patched him up I think what he really needs is some rest.”

 

“So… can I see him now? I-I’m not gonna disturb him, I just wanna be there with him.”

 

“Well, actually, we’d like to run some tests on  _ you _ , if you don’t mind.”

 

“Whatever tests you wanna run, you can run ‘em on me  _ in there _ .” Stan pointed to the room that held his brother.

 

The doctor rolled their eyes. “Alright, fine. I suppose it’s the least we could do for the town hero.”

* * *

  
  


“Ok Grunkle Stan, let’s see if this helps you remember any of your childhood.” Dipper said as he opened the first yearbook.

 

After telling half the town Stan’s life story, Soos had swung by the remains of the Mystery Shack to pick up the kids. Dipper had found the yearbooks. Luckily the portal lab was far enough underground that it was still mostly intact, and the boy had spent enough time down there with Ford to know where to look. 

 

Now they were gathered round the freshman yearbook, Stan sitting beside Ford’s bed and the kids standing round him, ready to do some more reading like they had with the scrapbook earlier that day. As they read along, it became clear that there weren't too many pictures of the twins. And the further they got into the yearbook, the more Stan remembered why: he and Ford hadn't exactly been popular. Still, there were a handful of snapshots of the fourteen-year-old boys. 

 

There was one where they had won the school’s Halloween costume contest with a rather gruesome but convincing conjoined twins get up. That had brought back plenty of memories, not just of figuring out what material would look like real skin, or learning how to walk together without tripping over each other, but other Halloweens as well. Another picture of himself in the boxing ring brought on a few memories of the only thing Stan considered himself any good at as a kid. A closer look at the photo revealed that Ford was there too, in the background, but with his head buried in a book and distinctive hands inside a pair of boxing gloves, he was barely recognizable.

 

However, without any context, the other photos just didn’t stir much in Stan’s mind. There were a few flashes of faces and laughter and sensations, but nothing that clicked into place. It just made his thoughts cluttered and confusing.

 

“I wish Grunkle Ford was awake, he could tell us about what was happening in all these ancient pictures.” Mabel pouted. She’d spent most of their time flipping through the yearbook ooh-ing and aah-ing at the 70’s fashion. 

 

“Doc says what he needs now is rest.” Stan told her. “Sounds like a pretty good idea, actually.”

 

“It is getting kinda late…” Dipper agreed. “But where are we gonna sleep? The Shack’s in shambles, like, way more than usual.”

 

“Could we sleep here?” Mabel asked. “We could keep Grunkle Ford company.”

 

“I’m sure he’d appreciate the gesture, sweetie, but there’s only the one chair.” Stan said. “Wouldn’t be too comfy.”

 

“We could sleep on the floor!”

 

“You dudes don’t gotta do that, you can come spend the night at my place again!” Soos suggested. “We still got the same sleeping bags you used last time!”

 

“Alright.” the young twins agreed simultaneously. The three of them made to leave, but Stan remained seated.

 

“Mr. Pines, you coming?” Soos asked.

 

“Uh, nah, you kids go ahead, I’m gonna stay here.”

 

“But Grunkle Stan, you  _ just said _ spending the night here would be uncomfortable.” Dipper pointed out.

 

“I said it wouldn’t be comfy for three people and only one chair. I’ve got the chair and I ain’t givin’ it up.” The old man replied flatly. “Now you all go get some proper sleep. I hear it’s been a crazy week.”

 

Stan grumbled as the kids left, leaning an arm on the side of Ford’s bed. He still didn’t know a lot about the man lying beside him, his brother. It was like there were two conflicting images coming together from the memories he was regaining. In one image, he and Stan were close friends who cared deeply for each other, who, from the looks of the few pictures in the first yearbook, did everything together. His brother was brilliant and kind. In the other image, Stan was furious with him. He thought he was better than everyone else. His brother was a dangerous, ungrateful jerk. The two conflicting images both clashed and overlapped and basically made Stan feel all mixed up inside. What was worse, he didn’t have enough memories to understand  _ why _ he felt this way.

 

He didn’t know a lot about his brother, but he still had a strong notion that leaving Ford alone in an unfamiliar place would be a bad idea. And the next day, he was proven right.

* * *

  
  


Lying down. Sparse bedding. Artificial lighting.

 

Ford was taking note of his surroundings before he’d even fully woken up.

 

Not his own bed, but not in Bill’s clutches anymore, obviously. So that wasn’t another nightmare… probably.

 

Voices. So far indistinct, but as his head became clearer they did too. Friend, or enemy? How did he get away from Bill? Or was this some illusion meant to break him?

 

“...king up… bre....nd heartbeat a…” A voice said above him.

 

“...e’s wa....up? Lemme see him!” That was Stan’s voice! Stan was here! Not as close as the voice above him, but apparently in the same room.

 

“Please, Mr. Pi.... le… nish that blood sa…” Another voice said, close the where Stan’s voice had come from.

 

“I said lemme thro-- augh!” Stan cried out in pain. Ford’s brain burst out of the haze. Stan was in danger. They were in enemy territory. They needed to get out now.

 

“Well what did you expect, pushing me away like that when I had a needle in you!” The voice near Stan said defensively, but Ford had stopped listening. His eyes shot open and he bolted upright.

 

“Whoa, careful!” The first voice, a woman dressed in medical scrubs said, trying to push him back down. “You’ll tear out an IV!”

 

Ford grabbed the IV in question and did just that. It was no doubt filled with drugs meant to subdue him. He vaulted himself out of the bed and dodged around the shocked woman. Beyond her was a young man brandishing some sort of needle at Stan, who was bleeding from the forearm already. Stanford charged at the attacker.

 

“Whoa, Ford, take it easy, it’s ok!” Stan yelled at him, stopping him in his tracks. “It was just an accident, and my own fault!”

 

The lull in the action chased away Ford’s fight-or-flight response and he began to actually think about the environment he’d been taking in. With his conscious thoughts came memories of the last few days. The end of Weirdmageddon, erasing Stan’s memories and then finding a way to restore them, then collapsing on the floor of the living room. He was in the hospital.  _ Of course _ he was in the hospital, after what he’d been through.

 

Ford stood there awkwardly, his face burning red with embarrassment. He couldn’t think of anything to say except, “You’re ok?”

 

“More or less.” Stan grunted as he let the nurse remove the broken needle from his arm.

 

“Sir, would you please lie down!?” The doctor asked desperately, too scared to actually try and force him down herself again. “You’re still recovering from severe internal burns!”

 

Ford hesitated, looking at Stan’s arm that was now being bandaged.

 

“Do it or I’ll make you do it myself.” Stan threatened. Ford complied, wearing his ‘shocked owl’ expression. It seemed Stan had reclaimed quite a bit of himself while his brother had been out.

  
  


The kids came by later that morning. Dipper probably would have hugged Ford around the neck if Stan hadn’t held him back and explained that’s where a lot of the injuries were.

 

“Oh man, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking!” Dipper pulled the brim of his hat down in shame. “I was just so glad you’re ok, I didn’t even think…”

 

“Dipper, it’s alright, really.” Ford reassured the boy, running a hand through his hair affectionately. 

 

“I’m glad you’re ok too! And  _ look what I brought _ !” Mabel said in a singsong voice, holding up one of the yearbooks from Glass Shard Beach. “We can keep helping Grunkle Stan with his memories!”

 

“Good thinking, Mabel.” Ford nodded.

 

“Thanks sweetie.” Stan smiled.

 

And so another few hours were passed looking at the yearbooks. First they flipped through freshmen year again. As Mabel had predicted, with Ford’s help explaining the context behind the pictures, Stan had a much easier time making sense of the memories they stirred. By chance, the next one Mabel grabbed was their senior year.

 

“I don’t think we should do that one yet.” The bedridden scientist said quickly. 

 

“Why not?” Stan asked, confused.

 

“Well… obviously, we should go in chronological order.” Ford explained. “I think that would stimulate your memories best.”

 

“My scrapbook wasn’t in order, and it worked great!” Mabel countered.

 

“Older memories are different.” Ford insisted firmly, with a tone that ended all discussion. Dipper had heard that tone before, the first time he tried to ask his uncle about Bill.

 

After going through the sophomore yearbook the nurse came through with a tray of crummy hospital food. It was lunch time. Soos suggested they go to Greasy’s Diner, and Stan promised to sneak in some actually edible food for Ford. This time it was Dipper’s turn to hang back.

 

“Uh, you guys go ahead and grab me a grilled cheese sandwich,” the boy stammered, “I’m gonna stay here and keep Uncle Ford company.”

 

Ford gave him an appreciative smile. Just because he was used to being alone in strange places didn’t necessarily mean he enjoyed it. They just sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until Dipper spoke up.

 

“Great Uncle Ford, can I ask you something?”

 

“Ask away, my boy.”

 

“Why did you _ really _ not want to look at that yearbook?”

 

Ford hesitated.

 

“You  _ said _ no more secrets between us!” the boy pleaded.

 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” The old man agreed, “It’s not exactly a secret. I’m just… I finally have a chance to make things right with Stan, to be the brother I never was for him. Senior year was when we really started drifting apart, but it came to a head at the science fair. If he remembers the fight we had…if he remembers I didn’t try to contact him for ten years… he seems so happy now, I don’t want to ruin that… and what if we go back to barely even talking to one another?”

 

Dipper nodded and grimaced. “I get it, but those things are just as much a part of Stan as anything else. Sometimes you have to take the good with the bad.”

 

Ford sighed. “You’re right. How’d you get to be so wise at such a young age?”

 

The boy flushed bashfully. “W-wise!? Ahah, I dunno, I just… uh…” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “If it’s any comfort, I don’t think Stan will get so mad at you that he won’t talk. I mean, he still wanted to make up after the portal thing, even though he remembered everything.”

 

“Ah. Yes. _ Another _ thing I’m not looking forward to Stan remembering.” Ford groaned.

 

“I think he kinda already does. You remember that ‘jerk’ comment yesterday.”

* * *

  
  


They brought back a grilled cheese sandwich and a hamburger from the diner. Ford wolfed his food down quickly, before any of the nurses could notice he had it. Then they went through the junior yearbook, and, finally, got to senior year.

 

Dipper gave his uncle a reassuring squeeze of the hand. It was going to be ok.

 

Things started out good. There were more pictures of the twins as Ford won more awards and Stan started to do better in the school’s boxing team. But towards the end of the book was the school science fair. The first picture they ran across should have been happy. In the photo Ford proudly displayed his first place trophy, and Stan had an arm slung around him, proud as could be. Yet in real life, Stan wore a troubled frown, and Ford watched him apprehensively.

 

“I was so stupid…” The con man finally choked out.

 

“Grunkle Stan, are you crying?” Mabel asked tenderly, hugging him in an attempt at bringing comfort.

 

“If I’d just told you about the stupid thing!” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her. Perhaps he couldn’t. “It was an accident, I shoulda just swallowed my fears and just told you. I am such a stinking coward!”

 

“Stanley, enough!” Ford shouted, jolting him out of the memory. “Now, there are a lot of words I could use to describe you, but ‘coward’ is certainly not one of them. Not after what you did to stop Bill. Please, can’t we just put it behind us and not worry about it anymore?”

 

Stan still seemed shaken. “Put it behind me!? How can you-- I ruined everything, for both of us! You wouldn’t even look at me!”

 

“I was an angry teenager, more hurt and betrayed than I’d ever been at that point in my life!” Ford retorted defensively. Then his anger seemed to snuff out. “But as hurt as I was, that doesn’t excuse me turning my back on you.”

 

Stan’s anger seemed to dissipate as well. “Yeah, well, what were you supposed to do? Doubt you could’ve done anything to change dad’s mind.”

 

“Maybe not, but after I moved out for college I should have tried to find you. Call you.  _ Something _ .”

 

“Yeah, you should’ve…” Stan agreed, suddenly running out of words.

 

Mabel was looking between them like a kid in a candy store. “ _ Now hug _ !” She whispered ecstatically. 

 

The two old men laughed, breaking the tension of their previous argument.

 

“I’d love to Mabel, but I’m confined to a hospital bed at the moment.” Ford pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but I’ve got a better idea.” Stan grinned. “High six?”

 

Ford matched his brother’s grin with a warm, crooked smile. “High six.”


End file.
